ZFighter18

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> A CURSE UPON THEE 3-13 “Huh.” The noise around him seemed to hush, everything in the depot finding a quiet that was unknown to the place— at least to his ears. The grunting of the workers, the chatter of the hunters, and the clanking of the machinery; all of it found a way to qu

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> A CURSE UPON THEE 3-12 One blue eye cracked itself open and Finn McHale immediately regretted it, morning sunlight blinding in all its white-gold evil. Dust floated above him, illuminated through the glass of the balcony doors under a beam of that evil aimed right at him. …okay.

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> A CURSE UPON THEE 3-11A “SQUAWK!” Some days you just regretted waking up. “SQUAWK!” Some days you regretted even the concept of leaving your bed and that was a much more specific kind of regret; the kind that usually started up when his phone started buzzing on the low table and

…how old is that kid? He was aiming for sixteen, which sounded about right. Fifteen was possible, sure, but sixteen seemed to hit the spot a bit better. The bat in his hand definitely seemed like it was school property, the aluminum weapon looking worn in exactly that sort of ‘too many hands have be

The sky was really pretty in Kyoto this time of year, an undeniable part of a beautiful Japanese summer as the months moved into May. Unfortunately — “FINN!” — he wasn’t really able to enjoy it all that well right now. Mostly because the world had just gone stupid, blue sky and white clouds replacin

A thousand yen a page… Finn clicked his tongue, eyes firmly on the old man behind the counter as his machine beeped and whirred. You’re joking. Unfortunately, the konbini owner didn’t seem to believe in jokes. He also didn’t believe in fair prices either. This is freakin’ Suujin. Despite two weeks o

“Off—!” “Nope.” Torture wasn’t exactly as easy as it looked. Not the pain-causing part, no… Finn was pretty sure he could do that to a monster without caring all that much. No skin off his nose, even if the monster had a habit of squealing like a pathetic chihuahua that had grown a bit past the bree

Great. Finn stepped over a shattered cinderblock, soles scraping against powder and grit as he glanced around. Perfect spot for a barbecue. “You are certain it’s here.” It wasn’t much of a question at all, really. No little uptick to the end that would have had him ready with an answer, serious or n

The rear axle was complaining, suspension a few decibels short of a scream as Finn cranked the steering wheel of his kei truck. Every single pebble on the pavement was almost enough for Finn to feel it right against his most sensitive set of cheeks, a massage chair that was entirely unnecessary. Eit

The scent of Kurosawa-san’s cigarette wafted up from the second floor, Finn wrinkling his nose against cheap tobacco. Okay. He snapped his phone shut and slipped the clamshell back into his pocket, a sigh leaving his lips. Okay… A call with the fixer had gone as usual, the woman on the other end str

Chad the Barbarian… It felt like there was a joke somewhere in there. Unfortunately, he wasn’t too good at making them. No, that was more the wheelhouse of a specific red-haired idiot. Being honest, it was hard not to see what was funny there, but looking at the stop sign in his grip — a new notch i

Gold took the curve of Main Street slow and careful, his Cadillac obedient as ever. One hand on the wheel, the other took its rest across his thigh just bare inches from his cane. The wood might as well have been another limb at this point, yet what did he carry it for still? Habit. All of it, mere

Wet hair dripped down the back of her collar, Ruby biting back the urge to shake her hair like it was fur. A towel was also too much work so she’d already decided she wasn’t getting up to deal with it. Twenty minutes in the shower, standing under the water until the stuff in her hair and on her skin

What are you going to do, Emma? That same thought had been a constant in her head since she was old enough to even think and it had only gotten more common every single year. These last two weeks? It might as well have been playing on a loop. Exactly as long as she’d spent trudging through the trees

…are we out of cereal? The back of his palm slapped over his face as he realized the kitchen might be light on the most important meal of the day. We got eggs, right? A sigh slid out of his mouth, hand turning over as he rubbed at his forehead. …no, no, I ate all the eggs. It wasn’t even anything cr

Blood came off way easier when it was still fresh. More than that, cotton soaked up the red stuff way better than polyester. He’d learned that little bit about laundry, mostly because it was useful and right now — relevant. Especially as he twisted the fabric of the unconscious Yakuza’s shirt in his

“屌，打佢啦!” Zain never liked fish. His mom had always told him that his tastes would change when he ‘matured’ or whatever and he’d ‘grow’ to like it. As much as he missed her, he always felt like that was some BS. It didn’t make sense that you’d like new foods just because you got older, right? “快啲啦! H

Three weeks and change had gotten him used to the motion of the whole thing. Four or five days out of the week, he’d be breaking through walls and beating in heads the same way he had been since the start of September. He'd stopped counting the way you count things when you're keeping score. They al

Stolen bread pressed hot against his torn shirt, close to his ribs and held there with one hand. "Stop!" All sharp elbows and knobby knees, Kou’s sandals slapped a wet rhythm against the cobblestones. Alleys of the lower district blurred past, gray smears of soot-stained brick and overflowing gutter

Breath vanished as Renshu palmed his chest before he even saw the meaty hand. One second, he was firmly on the floor; feet flat, hands up, and ready to strike back. The next, all he knew was open air. Kou blinked as gray stone kissed the back of his skull, buzzing yellow bulbs smearing across his ey

Kou was never a true believer. At fourteen, he joined the Equalists because they offered food, training, and a way out of the gutters of Republic City. Amon’s revolution wasn’t justice to him. It was a ladder. Then Amon fell. Six months later, Kou is rotting in prison with a covered Equalist tattoo,

Metal grating dug into Zain's ass but whatever, at least they were up high enough that nobody could sneak up on them. More than anything, he definitely wasn't about to complain, not when Vince looked like his own body was kicking his ass. The fire escape a couple buildings away from El’s house creak

One AM at Mel's 24-Hour Diner in Astoria, Queens, and Zain was sitting alone in a back booth staring at a half-eaten burger like it had personally insulted him. The meat was cold, cheese congealed into this gross rubbery mess, but his appetite had jumped ship before he even took the first bite and h

(Yes, this is available for a lower tier. I usually post chapters that have more of a floating aspect in the timeline for lower tiers because if they don't need previous chapters to follow along, I might as well.) The fancy hotel suite in Midtown Manhattan was its own kind of ridiculous, full of fan

Three hours of hitting things and the only thing keeping him from climbing the walls was the steady rhythm of fist on heavy bag. Sweat poured off him like he'd been dunked in a pool, white t-shirt plastered to his back and chain coiled around his waist getting hot enough to burn if he let it sit wro

Hitting up the same grimy diner at the ass-end of Queens was a habit all three of the boys had gotten used to before and after late-night jobs. Carb-loading and protein-filling. It wasn’t because nowhere else stayed open past midnight because come the fuck on, this was New York City. No, not that. H

Huh. The handprint symbols looked harmless, shallow little groves tucked into the doorframe, almost dirty enough to go without being noticed unless you were looking for it. Yeah, they definitely looked harmless, but Zain knew enough about Marvel (well, mostly Ultimate Marvel and the movies) to know

The Queens rooftop somehow still kept the last bit of warmth from the summer sun, breathing heat onto Zain’s butt while the skyline blinked in a thousand colors in front of him. Three weeks since they started hanging out and this slab was already theirs, footprints in pigeon dust, a bunch of differe

Zain stomped out of Sensei Wing’s dojo with sweat cooling on his neck and a bruise blooming behind his right elbow. The bruise rolled sweet in his head, like a trophy he could push and feel and remember landing that spinning back fist on the older Japanese girl while she barked at him over and over,

Chain links wrapped snug around his waist, links almost biting into skin with every breath. It didn't hurt, his security blanket made of magic steel and potential violence but having it close... it just felt right. Plus, if he needed to fight, no fumbling for the Shen Gong Wu, Just yank and swing. S

It was said that there were certain things that man was not meant to know. HP Lovecraft said that, Zain was pretty sure. He was also pretty sure the guy had said some things about his cat, but that was neither here nor there. If there were things man was not meant to know, there were also definitely

Zain’s hands moved before his brain did as usual, fingers ghosting over the metal links of his chain like they knew something he didn’t. He’d gotten used to sleeping with it – wrapped around his wrist, looped across his chest, tucked between his fingers. The weapon never left his side anymore, not s

The penthouse spanned the entire crown of the Midtown high-rise. From the outside: steel, glass, modern silence, but the interior spoke a language centuries older. Hand-painted fusuma screens bisected the open-plan structure with deliberate geometry—mountains, battles, brushstrokes from another dyna

Zain woke like somebody snatched the plug on a nightmare—eyes flying open, lungs gasping too fast, body already jerking upright before his ribs screamed at him to not be fucking stupid. Whiteout. Pain made static flash in front of his eyes like a busted big-back tv and he crashed back down with a ha

His whole side felt like it got hit by a bus. Or maybe a whole damn Metro train. It was just a taxi, though. Just. Zain limped fast down the backstreets behind Canal like he could outwalk the stabbing under his ribs, hoodie stuck to his side with blood and sweat. Fabric clung where it tore—right sle

His arm was screaming, straight-up felt like someone was peeling muscle off the bone with a cheese grater. Zain dangled about thirty feet off the damn alley floor, chain wrapped around his wrist and slicing deeper every second. His whole body swung like a busted-ass wrecking ball, lazy arcs back and

“Fuck—” He didn’t even get the word all the way out before something in his hand snapped cold through his bones like a jolt, like getting tagged in the ribs with a live wire, and his whole body locked up, buzzed out. What the hell—? The chain was looped around his fingers now, coiled around his wris

Old heads were always pressed about something. Like—relax. It’s just mahjong. Okay, fine, maybe people in their thirties weren’t that old, but if you were hitting up the same buffet twice a week to slap plastic tiles around a table like it was life or death? You were cooked. Straight fossils. Which

The trap smelled like stale blunt smoke, sweat, and bad decisions. It wasn’t a big spot—just a run-down brownstone, sitting on the edge of the block like a missing tooth in a half-rotten smile. Boarded-up windows, eviction notices stuck to the door like faded tattoos, rats bold enough to run across

The first thing that hit was the weight. A sudden blur, a shift in air pressure—then the entire world tilted off its axis entirely. Andrew Airs barely even had a moment to register the impact before his back slams into brick. His teeth rattled in his skull, the breath jarred from his lungs. His brie

Zain kept his eyes locked on the man’s phone. The guy was too busy talking, one hand waving like he was in the middle of some deep conversation, the other twirling a fork through his food. His plate was still full. Barely touched. Good. First thing he learned about New York City today was that peopl

Brown eyes flickered open to nothing but dark, the only light at the end of the tunnel coming from directly above him; nothing but a rusty set of stairs and the opening he had basically jumped down to escape those criminals. Zain blinked, once, twice, slow, brain lagging behind his body as he pulled

He was falling. That fact should’ve hit faster, but his brain was stuck two steps behind, still catching up. One second, he was rolling out of bed, tangled in sheets. The next—nothing. No floor, no walls, just open air, cold wind tearing past his face, his stomach bottoming out like the world had ya